


Sending Postcards From A Plane Crash

by thenewbrokenscene



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkward Sexual Situations, Best Friends, Cabin Fic, Drunk Sex, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Road Trips, Self-Discovery, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-09-10 20:55:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8938939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenewbrokenscene/pseuds/thenewbrokenscene
Summary: [AU]School's out; time to spend a little leisure time in Calum's family cabin up north.  What's better than this?  Guys being dudes.  Fishing and canoeing in that clear fresh lake water.  Climbing shit.  Drinking a couple of beers and crushing the cans against your skull like a real fuckin' champ.  Your best bro at your side.  And in your bed.  And the bed is on fire and you're in hell.





	1. (Wish You Were Here)

**Author's Note:**

> i'm back already! still working on those oneshots from 'its a hell of a feeling though' but i kinda wanted to make them into little projects i could do between chapters of this fic.
> 
> this fic will not have the same dark themes as my last fic, and i dont think it will be as long. i have another longer fic that im playing with in my mind but the details are fuzzy.
> 
> anyway, enjoy!! should be a fun ride!

"Michael!  Get the fuck out here!" shouted a tall blonde boy, reaching inside the open driver's side window of his old black pickup truck to lay on the horn for several seconds.  

"Shut the fuck up!" a voice called from beyond the front porch, a raggedy screen door swinging slightly in the late spring breeze.

Luke Hemmings sighed, pulling the bill of his snapback further down to protect his blue eyes from the blinding light of the early evening sun.  He leaned against the car door, kicking at the gravel driveway with a Nike sneaker.  

He checked the time on his iPhone-- 5:36 PM.  With a 15-hour drive ahead of him, there was no way the pair was going to make it to Calum's family cabin tonight.  Luke had just finished his final exam of the semester, and his roommate, Michael Clifford, had finished his final shift at the campus bookstore the day before.  Their two best friends, Calum Hood and Ashton Irwin, had left for the northern Wisconsin cabin three days beforehand, having finished with their exams early.  

The blonde had expected his childhood best friend to be prepared and ready to go when he'd arrived home an hour ago, but the green-haired boy had been snoring in his bed instead of packing for their two-week vacation.  To his credit, they'd only had, like, an entire fucking semester to prepare for this trip.  Luke had dumped a glass of water on Michael and stomped out of the house, loading his own fully-packed luggage into the back of the truck while Michael frantically got ready to leave.  And then he waited.  And waited.  And it was getting old.

Michael stumbled out of the house, lugging a fat rolling suitcase and duffle bag behind him as he simultaneously tugged a t-shirt over his stomach.  He carried a chocolate chip cookie between his teeth, both hands full.

"Sorry, buddy," he said, dropping the bag into the back of the truck and grabbing the cookie from his lips, "I thought we were leaving tomorrow, for some reason."

"I told you this morning!" Luke said irritably.

"I thought that was a dream," Michael replied, swallowing the rest of his treat.  He walked back to the front door, closing and locking the heavy wooden door and latching the screen door shut.

Luke shook his head, exasperated.

"Whatever, do you have everything?  Did you lock the back door?" 

Michael nodded.

"And the stove is off, the water isn't running, and the lights are off," Michael assured him.

"Good, let's fucking go already.  We're running late so we'll probably have to find a hotel tonight, and I didn't want to spend that money," Luke grumbled, securing the removable top for the truck's trunk to safely seal their bags inside.

"We'll go halfsies," Michael suggested, "Or I could drive part of the way.  Knoxville, Tennessee to Buttfuck Nowhere, Wisconsin?  Sounds simple."

"You can't drive my truck-- not after what you did to your last car," the blonde scoffed, climbing into the driver's seat.

"Oh come on, if it hadn't rained the night before, I totally could have made that jump across that sinkhole," the older boy argued, getting into the truck on the opposite side.

* * *

 

The sun began to set somewhere in the horribly long state of Illinois, shining straight into Luke's eyes with the bill of his hat giving him little relief.

"I'm hungry," Michael said, sticking his arm out the open window and pretending his hand was a plane in the wind.  

"There are snacks in the bag behind my seat," Luke replied, "Go nuts."

The older boy sighed, groaning as he stretched to reach behind Luke’s seat.  The plastic grocery bag crinkled, and Luke saw snack-sized bags of chips being tossed in the air from the rearview mirror.  Michael sighed again, more exaggeratedly, returning to his normal position to shove some Slim Jims into his mouth.  The beef sticks kept him busy for approximately 0.3 seconds before he began to absentmindedly tear the wrappers apart.

"I want real food," he grumbled.

"Oh, _real food_ , like Taco Bell?   _That_ kinda real food?" the blonde scoffed, squinting at the brightness ahead.  

He registered motion out of the corner of his eye, slamming on the brakes just as Michael shouted, "Deer!"

The car behind them skidded to a halt as well, the boys narrowly avoiding a collision with both the car and the animal.  The vehicle honked as it sped around them, the driver shouting obscenities as Luke caught his breath and slowly accelerated the truck to a normal speed.

"Christ, you wanna break my neck some more?" Michael complained loudly, rolling his shoulders and tugging at his suddenly-locked seatbelt.

"Sorry-- the sun.  I didn't even see the road, much less a deer," Luke said weakly, "Fuck it, let's go have dinner and just sit around until it's dark out." 

* * *

 

It was nice, spending alone time with his best friend for once, Luke admitted, giving Michael a sidelong glance as the green haired boy spoke animatedly around the food in his mouth, his hands flailing around and sending a few fries flying through the air.  They landed in the grass next to the pile of large rocks the boys had perched on outside of the burger and ice cream stand.  Sure, they lived together, but being forced into a car with one another for fifteen hours was _prime bonding time_.  Time to talk, about things that weren't television or videogames or fighting over who gets the bathroom first.  The younger boy found himself learning things about Michael that he felt he should have already known, especially as his best fucking friend since middle school.

"Yeah, so that totally didn't work out, but she felt so fucking awkward about it that I got an A on every single assignment from there on out," Michael said, slurping from the straw in his soda cup, "So, definitely do _not_ hook up with your TA in case they pull out the ol' _secret husband_ trick."

* * *

 

God, does the Midwest have to be so fucking _flat?_  Luke grimaced at the abysmal environment around the interstate, noting that there were some empty fields, some empty fields, and some more empty fields.  Wait, they just passed an oddly-placed 24-hour sex shop.  At least the stars were pretty, but there were stars in Tennessee, so they weren't interesting enough to hold Luke's attention.  He shook himself awake and turned the music up, trying to reenergize himself within his boring surroundings.

"Luke, I think we should probably stop for the night," Michael said, quickly flashing his phone screen towards his friend to show him that he was Googling for local hotels.

"Don't wanna," Luke yawned, chin nearly resting on top of the steering wheel, "We only just got out of Chicago, I wanted to at least get into the damn state first."

"Dude, I've seen you do that _jerking-awake thing_ like four times in the past half hour, it's time to stop before you kill us," Michael said, "Take the next exit, I see some hotels right off the highway." 

* * *

 

The next thing Luke noticed about the Midwest was that it was still fucking chilly in late May.  He shivered, wishing he'd worn more than a tank top as he rummaged through the back of the truck for his grey hoodie that he _knew_ he had packed away _somewhere._  The blonde quickly grew frustrated and gave up, tossing his luggage around grumpily and settling for crossing his bare arms and glaring at Michael like the weather was his fault.

The older boy sighed, reaching into the duffle bag slung over his shoulder and pulling out a plain black sweatshirt.

"Here, stop being a pussy," Michael scoffed, tossing the shirt at Luke, ignoring his own cold arms.

* * *

 

"Shittiest fucking hotel on the block," the green haired boy muttered as they entered the sorry excuse for a lobby through a broken sliding door.

"Whatever, it's like 40 bucks a night and as long as there's no bugs, we're fine," Luke hushed him, daring to ding the bell at the abandoned counter.

The sharp sound summoned a skinny, greasy young man from within a doorway beyond the front desk.  He rubbed at his eyes as he approached, as if he had been asleep in the back office until just then.

"Can I help you?" he asked with a yawn, plopping onto a stool behind the counter and booting up the desktop computer.  He straightened out his wrinkled black polo shirt.

"Uh, yeah, can we get a room?  Whatever's cheapest should be fine," Luke said, pulling his wallet out of the pocket of his shorts, "Whatever the thing on the sign was."

"The sign was advertising for a single queen room," the clerk said, clicking around on the computer, "So there's only one bed."

"Yeah, fine, that's perfect," the tall boy said dismissively, slapping his debit card down on the counter in front of him.  As if that mattered.  He and Michael had shared a bed thousands of times since they'd become friends.  Most recently due to drunken stumbles into Michael's bed after too many shots at a frat party because getting to Luke's second-floor bedroom was exceptionally difficult while wasted.

"Alright, fill this out, please," the man instructed, pushing a sheet of paper and a pen towards the pair for Luke to input his information, "And would you like the hourly rate, or the nightly rate?"

Luke's head snapped up from where he was staring exhaustedly at the paper, now fully alert.  Michael snickered next to him.

"You picked a hotel that offers an hourly rate, you trashy fuck!" Michael laughed, elbowing his companion in the ribs.  The younger boy smacked Michael's arm away, face flushing.

"Nightly, thanks," he answered hotly.

"Okie-dokie," the clerk said, sauntering casually to the back to retrieve a set of key cards.  

"There's not gonna be like, blood on the sheets, right?" Luke asked, beginning to rethink his stingy attitude after noticing a suspicious stain on the carpeted lobby floor, badly hidden by a small rug.

"No, no, we got that all cleaned up," the man said plainly, turning back towards Luke and Michael.

Luke stared at him, waiting for him to laugh at his own joke, but he didn't.  He held onto the shred of hope that the man was joking anyway.

"Oh...kay..."

He handed the cards to the boys, instructing them on how to get to their room before sliding Luke's card through the cash register.  Michael rested his elbows on the counter conspiratorially as Luke gathered his shit together, leaning towards the employee.

"Just out of curiosity, which one of us did you think was the prostitute?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

“Honestly,” the man said, rubbing a hand over his pale face tiredly, “I just assumed you two were gonna shoot a weird porn.”

“Well, we’ll let you know how that goes,” Michael joked as Luke began tugging him away by the arm. 

* * *

The smell was horrendous, Luke noticed immediately.  He rushed to the window, cracking it open—a little, because of course it only slid four damn inches before it jammed. 

“Really great choice,” Michael noted, running a finger over the ripped edge of the gaudy yellowing wallpaper.  He disappeared into the bathroom, “Loving the mold on the shower curtain.”

“Shut up, alright?  I get it, you can pick the hotel on the way back,” Luke said, turning on the ceiling fan and shaking out the bedding to ensure they wouldn’t be sleeping with any rodents.

Once satisfied that the sheets and blankets were more or less clean, the blonde tugged his basketball shorts down and kicked his socks off and crawled into bed, opting to leave Michael’s sweatshirt on over his tank top and boxers.  He was struggling to get his phone in just the right position to charge from the shitty electrical socket when Michael came bounding out of the bathroom in a pair of pajama pants with images of flaming skulls on them. 

The green haired boy flopped onto the bed, snatching up the remote to turn on the television that must have been installed in the early 1990s.  Static.  He flipped through the channels, finding more of the same.  He turned it back off with a frustrated grunt, clicking the bedside lamp off and shrouding the two boys in silent darkness.

That is, until a soft squeaking sound came from the room behind the bed.  And quiet whimpers.  The soft squeaking became louder until it became clear that the sound was a bed’s headboard banging against the wall and the whimpers turned into pornographic moans.

“I could make you scream like that,” Michael teased, after a while, “Wanna have a contest with them?”

“Stop.  I’m sorry about the hotel room,” Luke mumbled into his folded arms, red faced, “And being grumpy all day.”

“’S fine, it’s not really a road trip if there’s no one getting screamed at in the car,” the older boy yawned, “Besides, the sex sounds are almost kinda soothing, right?”

“Yeah, ‘ _murder my pussy, daddy,_ ’ is like a new-age lullaby,” Luke replied, pulling the pillow tightly over his head to muffle the noise.


	2. Weightless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Manage me, I'm a mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was going to wait to post this, but i figured i might as well just go ahead while i'm on a roll!
> 
> chapter warnings: sexual content (the very first italicized part, then it ends after the first pagebreak)

_Michael's lips drew away from where they met Luke's in a soft kiss, his green eyes seeming to glow in the morning light as he kneeled back between Luke's legs on the mattress.  The blonde caught a whiff of Michael's cologne._

_The younger boy's boxers were laying in a heap on the floor.  He was wearing some t-shirt, pulled nearly to his chin, while Michael was still in pajamas.  Luke didn't question any of this, not even when his best friend leaned down to lick Luke's hard cock with the flat of his tongue before taking it into his mouth, making the blonde's breath catch.  Luke simply fisted his hands in Michael's green hair and enjoyed the ride, encouraging the older boy with his breathy moans._

_"Michael," he gasped, screwing his eyes shut as Michael's nails dug into his thighs.  He opened them again and caught a glimpse of the digital clock on the bedside table, "Oh fuck, we were supposed to check out an hour ago..."_

_Michael said nothing, apologizing with his eyes, half-lidded as he looked up at Luke from where he was gagging on the taller boy's dick._

_"Shit," Luke moaned, one hand leaving Michael's hair to scrabble around in the sheets until the older boy offered his own hand for Luke to crush in his desperate grip.  The blonde came with a series of loud whimpers, curling in on himself as Michael cleaned up the mess with his mouth._

_Luke leaned back on the pillows, out of breath.  Michael crawled up the bed, swiping the back of his hand over his swollen lips before plopping down onto the mattress beside Luke.  He propped himself up on an elbow._

_"You definitely weren't as loud as the neighbors, but we'll work on that," he joked.  Luke laughed, offering no reply._

_A phone buzzed loudly from the bedside table, and Luke sighed._

_"Ah, fuck, my alarm's going off," he grumbled, groping around for his phone._

_He pressed the 'home' button to turn it off.  However, it continued.  Luke furrowed his brow, pressing every combination of buttons he could think of, before Michael spoke again._

_"Alarm for what?" he asked, suddenly somehow shirtless.  The bedspread was green, when Luke could have sworn it was off-white when they'd checked in._

_"For...for the...when did you take off--" the younger boy stuttered, confused.  He looked back at the clock, which was now displaying a completely different time.  He felt warm suddenly, shaking his head and reaching to pull off his loaned sweatshirt, which wasn't on. "What--"_

_"Wake up!" Michael said, now holding Luke's phone in front of his face._

* * *

 "For the love of God, _please_ wake up!" Michael shouted, managing to drag Luke from the depths of sleep by tossing his still-vibrating phone at him.

Luke sat up with a start, breathing heavily as he dragged a hand through his sweaty hair.  He looked over at Michael jerkily, then quickly looked away, horrified.

"Watching you have a wet dream was definitely one of the most unpleasant experiences of my entire life," Michael said, giving his own impression of Luke's gasps and whines. "What was it about?  That girl at the gas station you were flirting with?  Having a threesome with the couple next door?"

Luke's face was hot, and he could tell his cheeks were tomato-red.  He looked down, confirming that he was wearing Michael's sweatshirt once again and thus had been returned to the real world.  He tugged it off of him, throwing it to the floor.  He couldn't stand the smell of Old Spice body spray right now.

"Shut up," he huffed, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.  He planted his feet firmly on the floor, trying to ground himself.  Taking a deep breath, Luke stood up, stretching his arms over his head. "I'm gonna shower."

"Don't jack off for too long in there, we gotta check out soon," Michael called after him as he disappeared through the bathroom doorway. 

* * *

 

Luke blew a misplaced hair out of his face, his knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel.  They'd checked out of the hotel wordlessly, and the drive had been tense since they'd gotten back into the truck.

"You're acting weird," Michael said finally, evidently sick of spending over an hour in strained silence.  All efforts on his part to start a conversation had been shut down.

"No I'm not," Luke said gruffly, clenching his jaw.  The strand of blonde hair that had been untameable since it had dried from his shower fell back over his forehead, stabbing him directly in the eye.  

Luke frowned, ignoring the annoyance until Michael reached over and attempted to fix it himself.  

" _Why_ are you _touching_ me!?" Luke snapped irritably, jabbing at the older boy with his elbow since his hands were preoccupied with driving.

Michael snatched his fingers away, glaring at Luke.

"I'm just trying to fix your hair, it's parted all wrong!   _See_ \-- you're acting fuckin' _weird_!" the green haired boy said, crossing his arms. "And you said you _weren't_ gonna be grumpy today!"

Sighing, Luke reached for his snapback resting on the car's dashboard and slid it over his head, using it to push his hair back and away from his forehead.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I'm just, like-- embarrassed.  About this morning.  Fucking middle school awkward horrible _shit_."

"Dude, it's not even a thing.  Making weird noises in your sleep is a lot less mentally scarring than the multiple times we've walked in on each other watching porn," Michael replied dismissively, "Don't worry about it."

"I'll try not to," Luke said, eyeing Michael's lips in his peripheral vision as the older boy slurped at the straw of the cherry flavored Slurpee he'd gotten at the convenience store earlier that morning.  Michael glanced at him, quirking a brow questioningly, causing Luke to tear his gaze away and back towards the road.

"Was it, like, a _good_ dream, at least?" Michael asked casually.

" _It was fine_ ," Luke choked out, trying not to swerve off the road to kill the both of them instantly, "Listen, can we talk about something else?   _Anything_ else?  Start talking about one of those screamo bands you like."

Michael obliged happily.

* * *

 

"We're in Wisconsin, all right," Luke muttered to himself as he drove past corn field after corn field, caved in barns and miserable-looking horses everywhere.  

Michael snored in the passenger seat, cheek pressed against the glass of the window.  His sweatshirt was on, protecting him from the coolness of the air conditioned truck.  The sleeves of the sweatshirt were balled up in Michael's fists, his hands hidden by the fabric.

Meanwhile, Luke's inner dialogue was trying to make sense of what the fuck his dream meant before he'd have to interact with the green-haired boy again.

 _'It was just a dream, don't fucking worry about it,'_ he thought. 

He tapped lightly on the steering wheel, the conclusion apparently not satisfactory to his brain.  Why did his imagination conjure it up in the first place, he needed to know.

 _'I haven't gotten laid in a while,'_ he thought, nodding, _'Could've been about anyone.'_

 _'It was Michael because he was making all those suggestive jokes last night,'_ he considered then, _'Not a big stretch to have a dream about the person you're in bed with while being lulled to sleep by the sounds of Fifty Shades next door.'_

He glanced over at Michael, still propped against the seat, oblivious.

 _'And Michael's a good-looking guy, it's not like I haven't been curious about--I mean, **everyone** wonders about their friends **sometimes** \--'_ Luke cleared his throat, forcibly halting his stream of consciousness.  He frowned.  He was done talking about this to himself if this is how he was going to act.  He reeled it back in, chalking it up to Michael's jokes and their noisy neighbors. 

* * *

 

At last, the surroundings began to look less dreary and more _green_.  The road had become unpaved gravel long ago, and tall trees were finally emerging from the grass.  

Luke smiled as he passed through a makeshift downtown area of the small town, consisting of a combination gas station and fishing bait shop, a grocery store, a pub, and a pizza place.  He imagined the surrounding houses to be filled with toothless old people and men who loved flannel.  The town had character, he thought, watching a woman pin laundry onto a clothesline in her yard next to a tiny red-brick school that seemed to contain the middle school and the high school, combined.

"Michael," Luke said, reaching over and slapping at the other boy's chest, "Wake up, we'll be there in fifteen."

Michael woke slowly, yawning and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Cute town," he said, "Like the ones out in the country by our place, but without the poverty."

Luke continued driving until the road began to take them into the woods, and the amount of houses became more sparse.  There were a few cabins along the shore of the lake, and he watched the addresses closely until he pulled into the long dirt driveway of Calum's vacation home.  Michael pointed out Ashton's familiar red SUV in the driveway, the canoe that was once strapped to the top of it laying facedown in the grass next to it after it had been used.

The blonde pressed his hand into the horn of the car, the sound ringing out loudly.  It summoned the boys from within the house, both Calum and Ashton jogging out excitedly to greet their friends.

The air was cool compared to back home, but the locals had all been wearing tank tops and shorts. To the boys, at least an added sweater was called for.

"Thank god you were in there, now you can help us carry in our shit," Michael said as he let himself out of the passenger seat.   

* * *

 

After dumping their luggage onto the carpeted living room floor, Ashton retrieved one of the pizza boxes from the kitchen table a few feet away.  

"We prepared for your arrival," he said, setting the box down on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

"Fuck yes, I'm starving," Michael said.

The cabin was simple; there was a living room and a kitchen with a table for two set up in the kitchen for a makeshift dining area.  There was a television in the corner of the living room, equipped with a DVD player because the idea of having cable or wifi in this area of the state was laughable.  Glass sliding doors to the right led to the wooden deck and straight onto the lakeshore, and a hallway straight ahead led to the bedrooms and bathroom.  There was a winding, creaky, and frankly dangerous staircase in the corner of the house that led to the basement that no one dared to venture into.  Calum and his sister swore it was haunted by the ghost of a hunter who had killed his family down there, but their story had yet to actually be confirmed as anything but kids scaring kids.

"So," Calum said, mouth full of pepperoni, "There are only two bedrooms in this cabin."

Luke nodded in understanding, Michael joining him.

"And one of 'em was for me and Mali, so it has some fun bunk beds.  Which Ashton and I already claimed since it's my house and we arrived first.  The other room was for my parents, so there's only one bed.  It's a big bed, but if you guys have a problem with sharing, there's always the couch," Calum explained.

"I'm not sleeping on the couch for two weeks," Michael scoffed, "I'm fine with sharing the bed, as long as Luke doesn't have another _accident_."

Luke choked on his pizza, the tips of his ears burning pink.  He sputtered, trying to defend himself before his friends got the wrong idea.

"Luke, did you fucking wet the bed, dude?" Calum asked, wide-eyed.

" _No_!" Luke coughed, cheeks still stuffed with food he was desperately trying to swallow down.

"In a manner of speaking..." Michael teased.  The younger boy swiftly slapped Michael upside the head, angry.

"Fuck off!  I didn't fucking _piss_ the bed, don't make it sound like that!" he stood up petulantly, brushing the pizza crumbs off his grey hoodie. "You are such a fuckin' asshole."

"Luke was enjoying a _romantic_ dream this morning," Michael explained smugly, clearing away Ashton and Calum's confused expressions.

"Whatever!  I caught Michael fingering his own asshole, like, a month ago!   _Three_ fuckin' fingers!" Luke shouted with clenched fists.  He gathered up his suitcases from the pile on the floor and stomped off to find the bedroom where he could unpack and take a fucking undisturbed nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!


	3. Bad Joke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are days like today  
> when you make me  
> wanna tear my fucking hair out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter warnings: uhhh... calum tells kind of a gruesome ghost story?  
> that's it.

When Luke woke up, drooling on the pillow beneath him, the clear blue sky had turned dark and grey, and the sound of thunder could be heard rumbling in the distance.

He walked down the hallway, feeling more refreshed and smelling the distinct scent of the air before it rains rolling in through the open windows.  Calum, Ashton, and Michael were sitting around the coffee table in the living room, playing cards.

“Damn, didn’t know it was gonna get so wild in here,” Luke joked, grabbing a beer from the fridge before plopping down on the carpet next to Michael.

“We wanted to go hiking today, but it’s supposed to thunderstorm pretty soon, so we’re stuck inside until tomorrow,” Ashton grumbled from where he was perched on the edge of the sofa, slapping a card down on the table.

“Yeah, there’s not much to do in the cabin.  I really only planned for outdoor activities, so we’re basically confined to this, board games, and my family’s DVD collection.  And drinking ourselves silly, but we’re almost out of beer so we _still_ have to wait until tomorrow to go out and get more because I do _not_ feel like driving all the way back into town,” Calum said disinterestedly, revealing his own hand of cards.  Ashton and Michael gaped at him indignantly as the brunette reached across the table and swept the stacks of quarters and dimes they’d been betting back over towards his own pile of change.  He was clearly winning.

“Fine, I could go for a day of doing nothing after that drive,” Luke shrugged, gesturing for Michael to deal him some cards.

* * *

 

The game melted away into the four boys sharing the most gruesome stories they could think of, urban legends and ghost stories and tales of questionably realistic serial killers— _“Or was that an episode of Criminal Minds…I dunno, but shit’s weird, right?”_

They sat in a circle on the floor, passing a flashlight to hold under their chins as they spoke, just like a classic middle school sleepover.  The kitchen light was still on, preventing the evening from becoming overly spooky.  And helping to avoid any knees banging into the table as they periodically helped themselves to leftover pizza from the fridge.

“The story about my basement is true,” Calum said nonchalantly.

“Bullshit,” Michael scoffed, tossing the flashlight at the younger boy so he could speak with the proper amount of _fright._

“It’s true!  I was wondering where my sister and I would even come up with something like that, and it turns out that we came up with it because it’s true,” Calum insisted, “I googled it.”

“No way.  Why would your parents buy a house in the middle of nowhere where some psycho killed his family?  They don’t seem like those types of people,” Luke said.

“It was cheap,” the curly haired boy shrugged, “They don’t believe in ghosts or _bad energies_ or whatever, so they decided it was a good deal and went ahead and bought it.  That’s also partly why we haven’t upgraded to a nicer one after my parents got better jobs; no one else wants to buy a house like this.  I must have heard them talking about it to each other as a kid, and used it to explain the weird sounds downstairs.”

" _I_ haven't heard anything from downstairs," Luke shook his head in disbelief, bringing a can of soda to his lips.

“No shit!” Ashton said, having pulled out his phone halfway through the conversation, “Calum’s not lying, look at this article!  It was abandoned since the incident in the 1970s, until it was auctioned off for cheap in 1998, which is when your parents bought it, I’m assuming.” 

He flashed the screen towards his friends, allowing them all to see the headline.  It was an article about creepy happenings in Wisconsin, and there was a grainy photo of the cabin with a blurb outlining the crime underneath it.

“So tell the story, then,” Michael said, gesturing towards Calum across the circle, “Tell us the story how you’ve known it, and Ashton can confirm or deny.”

“Fine, no problem,” Calum said, placing the flashlight under his chin and flicking it on, illuminating his face in the dim light, “So, the story goes, this guy was a real creep.  One of those really old fashioned guys, like, even though it was the 70s, he refused to allow stuff like electricity and phones, and made his wife stay at home and homeschool their two daughters.  He had a job in town, but kept all the money for himself and he hunted and fished for his family’s food instead of just going to the damn grocery store.  They were basically secluded here.  Anyway, no one knows exactly why, but he started to get _really_ crazy—like, Mali suggested that maybe he got rabies while out hunting or something, or maybe he was possessed, and he got it into his head that his wife was unfaithful and trying to leave him—even though the only time she left the property was for church on Sundays.  So, one night, he just absolutely lost it, and drugged his family at dinner.  They woke up in the basement, and saw him standing there with this axe.  And that was it, they were gone.  Then he must have come to his senses and felt guilty, because then he hung himself down there.  One of the women at their church was worried when they didn’t show up on Sunday, because she already suspected that the wife was being abused, so she asked the police to check up on the family, and that’s how they were found.”

“Damn, that’s grisly,” Luke said with a grimace, turning towards Ashton, “But is it accurate?”

Ashton nodded.  The wind howled outside ominously.

“Everything sounds right, except for the small details.  Like, there’s no way to confirm that he drugged them at dinner, and they think it was a case of escalated abuse, not that he went crazy from _rabies_ or whatever,” Ashton said.

“And what’s the ghost story part?” Michael asked, “Is it _his_ ghost in your basement, or _their_ ghosts, or…?”

“Well, my sister and I always heard a loud scraping sound.  Like the axe dragging along the concrete floor.  We’ve also woken up in the middle of the night swearing that we heard someone scream.  Scary stuff like that.”

“Too bad ghosts aren’t real,” Luke sneered.

Lightning crashed loudly outside, its accompanying thunder booming seconds later, making it seem like the whole house could fall apart.  The four boys jumped, startled.  The light in the kitchen turned off, enveloping them in complete darkness, and the ceiling fan above them ceased to move.

The cabin became very quiet aside from the rain’s onslaught against the roof as the group of friends stared at each other, shocked.

“Power’s out,” Ashton said finally, pointing out the obvious.

“What do we do?” Michael asked, scooting closer to Luke for imagined safety.  Luke chose to ignore the weird flip his stomach did when Michael's hand brushed his on the carpet.

“The fuse box is in the basement, we’re gonna have to go down there and reset it,” Calum said hesitantly.

Ashton raised his hand.

“Uh, I vote Luke goes down there, because he doesn’t _believe_ in ghosts,” Ashton said.

“No!  I’m not gonna dance around the mouse traps and spider webs by myself, someone has to come with me,” Luke argued.

Michael sighed, hauling himself to his feet.

“I’ll come with you, I’m not afraid of spiders.  With our combined powers of fearlessness, we’ll survive.”

“Fine, come on,” Luke said, getting up and waving Michael along towards the door that led to the basement steps.

The pair made their way down the winding stairs, their phone flashlights illuminating their creaky path.  The sliver of the light from the doorway above disappeared as the door was shut.  Luke could hear Calum and Ashton snickering from beyond the flimsy wood like they’d just played the greatest prank ever by closing the door, and he rolled his eyes.

“Eugh, if I see a centipede, I’m outta here,” he muttered, shining his flashlight to the cobwebbed ceiling.

The older boy snorted at him.

“Yeah, and if I see an axe murderer, _I’m_ outta here.”

The basement was creepy and filled with junk that hadn’t been touched in years.  If someone told him that this stuff had been there since the 70s, Luke would have believed it.  Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust, and there was a bunch of antique shit that wouldn’t have made sense for Calum’s parents to bring to their family cabin. 

Luke walked straight into a mannequin, one of those soft body-shaped forms used to pin and fit dresses, effectively sending it crashing to the floor and scaring himself half to death.  His heart pounded annoyingly and he expected a serial killer to jump out at him at any time, but he finally saw the fuse box above an old washing machine and approached it.  He opened it, flicking the switch on and off a few times until he shrugged, knowing if _that_ didn’t work, there was nothing they could do but wait.

“Well, that’s—” Luke started, turning around to find Michael was no longer behind him, “Uh, Michael?”

No answer.  Luke groaned.

“Michael, not fuckin’ funny, I’m just gonna go upstairs and leave you here then,” he called.

Still no answer.

“ _Michael_ ,” he whined, a sense of dread forming in the pit of his stomach, “Michael, come out…”

The blonde was starting to get that chill up his spine that told him to sprint up the stairs and not look back, but he refused to look childish when he knew Michael was somewhere watching him.  _Or,_ Michael could be dead somewhere, and there was a deranged ghost watching him. 

Either way, Luke took a breath, straightening himself and marching confidently back the way he came.  Until a figure rushed out of the blackness from a rack of moth-eaten clothes, wrapping its arms around Luke’s waist and hauling him up.  Luke squealed girlishly, swinging back viciously with his elbows and flailing his legs until something connected with the figure’s face and it dropped him, allowing Luke to dash for the stairs, practically crawling as he scrambled his way up them, shrieking.  Somewhere in his mind, the grunt from the figure as his elbow crunched against its nose registered as a distinctly _Michael_ sound, but nothing makes sense when you’re in a supposedly haunted basement. 

Luke tore at the door when he got to the top of the stairs, screeching at Calum and Ashton to open it.  They simply laughed on the other side, so the younger boy took to throwing himself bodily against the door in hopes that it would push their weight off of it.  He'd long since realized that the only logical explanation was that the assailant was, indeed, his best friend, but that knowledge didn't really help him _breathe_ while his physical form was in the throes of a panic attack.

“Let me _out!_ ” he shouted, pounding at the wood.  He felt almost dizzy from the stress.

Michael slowly walked up the stairs, looking at Luke apologetically.  The younger boy looked like a wild animal trying to escape a trap, and he glared daggers at Michael as he approached, continuing his assault on the door.

“Luke, calm down, it was just a joke…” he said, as if that was going to fix the panic he’d caused.  Luke was so fucking angry, it was taking everything in him not to kick the asshole straight back down the stairs. “Guys, it’s not funny.  Open the door, please.  I fucked up.”

Decisive muttering outside the door was heard for a few seconds before Ashton hesitantly opened it and was immediately pushed out of the way by Luke barreling through, chest heaving as he struggled to suck in air.

“You didn’t even fix the--” Calum started sheepishly before being interrupted.

“Why the fuck did you do that?” Luke yelled, whirling around to face Michael, “Of fucking _course_ I realized it was you and not a fucking _ghost_ , but it's not like that's going to magically cure the anxiety attack you purposely pushed me into, you fucking dick!”

“I’m really sorry, I wasn’t thinking—“

“No fucking shit, you weren’t thinking!”

“Luke,” came Ashton, trying to diffuse the situation.  Always the voice of reason, “We realize that we screwed up on what we thought would be a harmless prank, and we’d like to apologize for it and make it right somehow.  But you need to calm down, have some water or something before you have a fucking aneurysm.”

“No!” the younger boy said, clenching his fists, “I’ve had nothing but a shit fucking time since I left the house yesterday, and I’m just—not going to have it!  I’m going to bed, and then maybe in the morning I’ll just drive back home so you guys can enjoy your trip.”

“That’s not what we want,” Calum said, “Come on—“

“I don’t care.  I’m going to bed,” Luke said, stomping down the hallway and slamming the bathroom door behind him before beginning to aggressively brush his teeth.

* * *

 

Eventually, the bedroom door creaked open, as Luke lay face down on the bed, sulking.

“Can I come in?” Michael asked, letting himself in anyway, “We’re sharing the room, so I’m gonna.”

He put on his pajamas quietly before nudging Luke aside to make room on the bed.  Luke rolled over, facing the ceiling with a blank expression.

“You still mad?” the green haired boy asked.  Luke grunted noncommittally.  “Look, I don’t really know what I should say, other than it was a tasteless prank and I should have known better and I’m sorry.  We all hope you’re not actually going to leave in the morning, because that would make things shitty and weird and we just all want to have fun.”

Luke said nothing for a while.  Then, “Of course I’m not _actually_ going to drive fifteen hours back home alone the day after I got here.  I’m just throwing a hissy fit over nothing.”

“Okay, good.  Something else bothering you, then?”

“Must be.  I don’t know,” Luke replied.

“Well, if it’s something you want to talk about, I’m here,” Michael said with a yawn.  He opened his arms invitingly, “Cuddle?”

The younger boy eyed him, considering the offer.  They hadn’t had a good cuddle since freshman year of college, when they were both friendless _(besides each other, as always)_ and terrified of the future.

“We’re not kids anymore,” he said finally, a little disappointed in his own words.

“We were telling scary stories with a fucking flashlight shining over our faces, stuffed ourselves with pizza, and played a juvenile prank on you in the basement.  This is a classic _kids’ vacation_ ,” Michael argued, simply opening his arms further, “Come on, you gotta protect me from the ghosts.”

Luke hesitated before obliging, slowly scooting into Michael’s arms.  He caught a whiff of Michael’s body spray and his cheeks reddened as he remembered his stupid fucking dream in vivid detail.  The boys were silent, awkwardly shifting around and listening to each other’s weird stomach and throat noises before finally settling into a familiar comfortable position.

“Your heart is beating so fast,” Michael noticed.  Luke drew in a sharp breath, ready to defend himself, when Michael continued, “We must have really freaked you out.  I didn't know your anxiety was that bad, I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, it's fine,” Luke answered shortly, closing his eyes to show that he was going to go to sleep now, and Michael should stop noticing things about _him_ or _his body_ and worrying about his anxiety and whatever else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!


	4. Cinderblock in hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And if I could move I'm sure it would only be to crawl   
> back to you  
> I must have dragged my guts a block...   
> they were gone by the time we talked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter warnings: sexual content near the end!

The smell of breakfast and the sound of music blaring roused Michael and Luke from their slumber, sending them sliding into the kitchen with socked feet.  There, they found Ashton sitting at the dining table, drinking coffee from a mug.  The bacon crackled in the frying pan, abandoned.

"Calum was cooking shirtless and burned his nipple with bacon grease," Ashton explained, not bothering to look up from where he was scrolling through his phone like it was the morning paper.

When the brunette returned, he was wearing a t-shirt, flannel, and a jacket.  The house was _warm_.  

"Extra protection," he said, bumping Luke out of his way with his hip and returning to his position at the stove. 

Huffing at Calum's impolite action, Luke decided to assert his dominance over the older boy by hip-bumping him right back, accidentally bumping Michael as well.  

"Oops," Luke said, startled at Michael's proximity to him. 

"God, Luke, watch where your fat ass is going," Michael joked, using his own rear-end to push Luke away from him.  

The blonde stumbled, surprised, knocking into the dining table where Ashton sat.  The table wobbled, splashing some of the curly-haired boy's black coffee onto its surface.

"Hey, watch it!" Ashton said, standing up.

"Yeah, just keep getting in my way everyone, it's fine," Calum muttered, struggling to continue cooking as all three boys resorted to shoving each other violently across the small kitchen using only their asses, sending waffles and utensils and other kitchen shit clattering to the floor.

 

* * *

 

"Bet you can't catch a fish with your bare hands," Michael challenged, walking backwards to face Luke as they stepped along the pebbly shore.  

The four of them had decided to travel up to a nearby camping site, where they'd be able to use official hiking trails.  This excellent decision came after Ashton's bright idea to take a hike through the pathless thick woods near the cabin, where Calum quickly contracted poison ivy and Luke was whacked in the face with a thorned branch, leaving him with a shallow stinging cut above his eyebrow.  

"Bet I can," Luke countered, adjusting the straps of his drawstring backpack. 

"Then do it," the older boy said.

"No.  You just want an excuse to push me in and I'm _not_ falling for it," Luke replied stubbornly.  The cool lake air was already penetrating his light windbreaker, and the blonde had no desire to be dumped into the freezing water.

"Sounds like _someone's_ chicken," Michael teased.  Then, turning back around smugly, "Hear that boys?  Luke can't even catch a fish!"

"Can _you_?" Calum snorted.

"Yeah, actually," Michael said, "I was a weird little kid and I thought it'd be a cool skill.  I used to catch the tiny fish in the stream in my backyard."

"Liar.  Prove it," Luke said.  

Michael stopped walking, turning back around to face his best friend.  He stared at him, then shrugged, dropping his own backpack to the ground and kicking his shoes and socks off.  

"Fine, I'll do it.   _I'm_ not a coward," he agreed, wading into the lake until he was knee-deep in the cold water.  The green-haired boy pawed around at the water, searching for a school of easily accessible fish.

Luke grinned devilishly from the shore, silently removing his own sneakers and tossing his jacket onto the beach.  

"Luke, _don't_ ," Ashton mouthed, ignored by the younger boy as he went as quietly as possible into the water behind Michael.

The shorter boy was doubled over in search of the perfect fish, focused on the task, making it easy for Luke to sneak up on him.  Just as the blonde was about to drill his fingertips into the soft sides of Michael's torso, causing his inevitable downfall, Michael confidently thrust his hand into the water, moving _just perfectly_ out of Luke's way.  

Luke lost his balance from the unexpected movement, slipping on the smooth stones beneath his feet and shrieking as he went down with a loud splash.  Michael straightened, looking down at Luke in surprise, a small fish in his hands.  He waved it in front of Luke's face a few times to prove himself before safely releasing it back into the water.  Luke glared at him indignantly, teeth chattering.  

"You deserved that.  I wasn't even gonna push you in, I just wanted Ashton and Calum to take pictures of me posing with your ass," Michael said, holding out a hand for Luke to take.

Full of childish vengeance, Luke took Michael's hand and yanked him down into the water with him, succeeding in getting himself crushed under the older boy's weight as he toppled over. 

Michael sputtered angrily, pushing himself onto his hands and knees, nose to nose with the younger boy.  Luke's heart thudded in his chest as he stared at the green-haired boy, felt their limbs tangling under the water.  

He felt _weird_.

"Can you two idiots stop fucking around?" Calum yelled from the shoreline, seeing Michael forcing Luke's head below the lake's surface until the taller boy regained the upper hand. 

Rolling his eyes, Ashton waded into the water after them.

"Help!  He's drowning me!" Michael whined piteously before Ashton yanked Luke away by his shirt collar, depositing him a few feet away.

"Can we keep walking now?  Or should we leave you two to play in the water?" Ashton asked, "We kinda wanted to actually make it to the hiking trails before it gets dark out."

Michael stared up at Ashton while Luke stood up in the water, shivering but laughing.

"Help me up, Ashton," Michael said, holding out his hand.  Ashton sneered at him.

"Michael, if you even _tried_ to make me fall in, I swear to God you would _not_ be sleeping in the house for the rest of the trip," he replied.

"Ugh, you're no fun," the younger boy said, helping himself up.

* * *

 

The boys dried off rather quickly in the sun, though not without a measurable amount of complaining from each of them.

"My feet hurt," Luke groaned, sitting down heavily on a patch of green grass at the top of a treeless hill next to Michael, "Are we gonna be done soon?"

"You wore the wrong shoes," Ashton said, indicating his fancy-ass comfy-looking boots before gesturing towards Luke's worn sneakers.  He dug his camera out of his backpack, adjusting the lens.

"Well sorry, didn't realize our hike was going to be a billion-fucking miles," Luke said.

"Luke, we've been walking for less than three miles," Calum said, "And we'll turn around when Ashton's done taking his Instagram nature photos."

"Michael," Luke said, resting his chin on the older boy's shoulder, "I'll give you ten dollars to give me a piggyback ride back to the cabin."

"You know I'll do anything for ten dollars. But dude, you're like seven feet taller than me, it's not gonna work." 

* * *

 

In fact, it _did_ work.  Just, not as comfortably as Luke had imagined.

"Stop drooping your ass so much, your dick is literally slapping my back with every step!" Michael scolded jokingly, which nearly made Luke faint from embarrassment.  And, subsequently, made Luke become very conscious of his dick positioning for the rest of the ride, unable to think of a good excuse to make Michael drop him so they could stop touching altogether.

He felt _weird_.   

* * *

 

Luke's elbows rested on the bar in front of him, his head in his hands and a tall glass of beer to his right.  

After the hike, the four boys were understandably starving, and in need of beer for the house, so Calum volunteered to drive the group into town for dinner at the pub before a trip to the gas station for alcohol.

For Luke, gorging himself on greasy bar food, while delightful, did not ease the odd feeling in his gut.

He knew, logically, that the weird feelings were brought on by the fucked up dream he'd had, and that he was now simply residually uncomfortable with physical contact with Michael.  But that didn't stop the weird feelings from coming, nor did it make the tiny part of his brain shut the fuck up when it started asking if maybe he felt so weird because it went deeper than that.

"Hey, you alright?" Michael asked, waving his fingers in front of Luke's face to get his attention, "You're quiet again."

"Yeah," Luke sighed, sitting up in his seat and stretching.  His shoulders were sore and sunburned from when he refused to put his protective jacket on over his wet shirt. "I'm just... I've been in the sun for too long today."

"Yeah, you do look like a tomato."

"Shut up, you look like a lobster," Luke teased back, downing the rest of his beer as the bartender came back with the change from their checks.

He counted out a tip and stood up, leaving the handful of dollar bills on the bar.  He heard Michael's stool squeak as the older boy pushed himself to his feet, with Ashton and Calum following closely behind.

"Wait, I gotta go to the bathroom before we leave," Michael said as Luke swung his backpack back over his shoulders in front of him.

Not moving fast enough for the green-haired boy, Michael placed a guiding hand on the small of Luke's back to gently push him out of his path.  Luke jumped at the contact, head whipping around to look at Michael.

"Sorry, just trying to get through," Michael said, looking at Luke strangely.

"Oh, yeah," he said, shuffling out of the way.  He watched Michael walk across the bar into the bathroom glumly.  Now he was making _Michael_ feel weird.

* * *

 

Crushed beer cans littered the living room floor, courtesy of Luke's skull.  It was a trick he'd learned from some friendly neighborhood frat boys at a party sophomore year.  Smashing objects against one's head was also a pretty good way to forget one's problems, something Luke needed to do in order to act somewhat normal.

"Guys, guys...come here, come on, group hug," Ashton slurred, crawling across the carpet where they all sat in a circle, gathering up his friends in his arms.

They'd all had a bit to drink, but none as much as Ashton.  He'd lost the drinking game they'd been playing with the cards that were now scattered across the coffee table, and it was pretty apparent.

"You guys..." he said, smushing his face into Calum's cheek, "You guys are my best friends!  Guys, this is _ssso_ fun!  It's like, we're all here, together, just havinna fuckin' _rockin_ ' time together!  It's fucking awesome!  I love you guys!"

"Aw, we love you too," Luke said, muffled by Ashton's shoulder.

"Can we-- can we just have a round of applause here, for Mr. Calum Hood?  For having a kickass cabin?" Ashton requested, allowing the three boys to go free from his hug in order to clap for Calum while laughing at the oldest boy's antics.

"Alright," Calum grunted, standing up and hauling Ashton to his swaying feet, "I think it's time for bed, Ashton."

"Fine, fine," Ashton said, stumbling out of Calum's grip in order to pull both Luke and Michael up and into another bone-crushing hug, "Goodnight buddies, I love you.  Sweet dreams, don't let the bears get you, bed bugs, and everything.  I love you guys."

Giggling, Michael and Luke patted Ashton on the back before telling the pair goodnight and that they love them too several times.  They turned off the lights, retreating into their own shared room. 

 

* * *

 

After changing into his pajamas, Luke crawled into bed.  Michael was already laying down, his back facing Luke, so Luke laid down with his back facing Michael's.  They were silent, the giggles from just a few minutes ago gone dead.  The air felt heavy and restless, like they were supposed to say something, but settling for a nonchalant ' _today was fun, good night buddy_!' felt out of the question. 

Finally, Michael rolled over, looking at the back of Luke's head.

"So, like, what the fuck is going on?"

Luke turned around, lips parted in surprise.

"Huh?"

"I dunno, you've been acting all uncomfortable this whole trip.  Is it me?" Michael asked, propped up with an elbow.

 _Yes_.

"No," Luke said firmly, "It's nothing."

"It's _not_ nothing," Michael scoffed, "Come on, I thought we were best friends; why won't you talk to me?"

The blonde said nothing, withering under the other boy's gaze.  His cheeks were hot, but they were obviously just still flushed from the sun or the alcohol.  That's all.

"I feel _weird_ ," he admitted quietly, stomach knotting up, "I don't know if I can talk to anyone."

"Aw, Luke," Michael sighed, patting the sheets beside him, "Cuddle?"

 _Don't_. 

"Okay," he agreed, heart pounding as Michael shifted across the bed until their knees knocked together and the older boy's arms came to rest around Luke's broad shoulders.

"You can talk to me, if you want to," Michael offered again.  Gentle, not accusatory. 

Luke swallowed, quietly watching Michael's fingers fiddle with the strings on Luke's hoodie for a while before speaking.

"How did-- how-- uh," he started.  Michael stopped, glancing at his face, and Luke looked away.  He jiggled his leg nervously, balling his hands into fists. "Why aren't you-- er, how did you figure out that you weren't straight?" he finally choked out. 

Michael stilled, looking down at Luke with wide eyes.  He faltered, not expecting that question.

"Um," Michael said, "I guess... it was when I had my first crush on a boy.  It was kinda different from having a crush on a girl, but I could tell that it was definitely not just, like, a friendship or jealousy type of thing.  It felt _weird_.  I couldn't identify it, 'cause I didn't think it was possible to _do_ that with boys."

Luke bit his lip, curling in on himself a little.

"...So..." Michael trailed off, wanting some clarification.

More silence.

"Luke, do you think you're not straight?" Michael asked finally.

"I didn't say that," Luke hissed irritably.

"Fine.  You're straight.  Just _talk_ , then," Michael said, rolling his eyes.

"Uh, well-- the other night," he started, grimacing, "I had a sex dream.  You remember.  It was about, uh, a guy.  And it made me feel weird.  Like, I think it awakened, like-- _feelings_."

"Okay, not a big deal, could be nothing," the older boy assured him, "But, so now you think that's something you might be interested in?"

"Idon'tknow," Luke mumbled, almost indecipherable. 

"That's okay, you don't need to figure it out right now.  But we'll all be here for you no matter what, you know that," Michael said.  He dared to place a chaste kiss on Luke's forehead, a startling gesture from years passed that made a hail of fireworks go off in the blonde's chest. "Maybe you're just curious.  Like, it happened in your dream and now you can't help but wonder what the real thing would be like.  Who was the person?  Have you ever felt like you might have feelings for them before this?"

"I don't know, I don't know," the taller boy replied, eyes squeezed shut, "Maybe I have, I don't know.  Maybe I just tried not to think of it like that before."

"Do you wanna try it?" Michael offered.  Luke froze, his soul shooting out of his body and flying towards the ceiling. "Like, we can try kissing or something and see if you like it?"

"Isn't that crossing a line?" Luke asked, after taking a moment to collect himself, "That's like, a friendship ruiner."

"Doesn't have to be," the green haired boy shrugged, "I think we crossed that line when we started hanging out with each other in the bathroom while the other one was pooping, anyway."

"I guess," the younger boy said hesitantly.

"We don't _have_ to do anything," Michael quickly jumped in, sensing the other's discomfort, "It was just a suggestion.  I could even set you up with one of my friends when we get back home, if you want.  Or not.  I just thought, since you're comfortable with me, it might-- _uh_ , whatever, it doesn't have to be me."

_God, but I want it to be._

Luke said nothing. Then, carefully, "Promise it wouldn't ruin anything?" 

"I know it wouldn't ruin anything for _me_.  We could always chalk it up to ' _we had a few beers and got a little touchy_ ,'" Michael assured him, "Calum and Ashton had a whole _thing_ , you know."

"Really?" Luke laughed.

"Yeah, that's how they tried to relate to me when I told them that I'm bi," Michael explained, "When they were in high school, they thought they liked each other, so they tried it out.  And they didn't, so they just went back to being friends."

"They never told _me_ that," Luke frowned.

"Maybe they thought you were the type of person to be weird about it," the older boy said, "You're like a sensitive frat boy, I dunno."

"But I'm _not_ \--" Luke sputtered indignantly, "They _know_ you lived at my house when your parents kicked you out!"

"I know," Michael replied.

"I know _you_ know."

The blonde crossed his arms, huffing angrily that his supposed best friends thought he'd be nasty about something like that.  Michael said nothing, resuming his playing with Luke's hoodie strings.  Luke looked back up at the older boy's face, relaxing a little.  He wasn't gonna be able to just forget about it and go to sleep.

"Alright, let's do this before I sober up too much to use the beer as an excuse," Luke said.

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, feel free to punch me in the face if you want me to stop," Michael said, bringing his soft hands up to Luke's scruff-covered cheeks.  

The blonde watched his green eyes flutter shut, and supposed he should do the same.  He closed his eyes, feeling Michael's lips gently press against his own moments later.

 _Ba-DUNK_ , said his heart, echoing off the wood-paneled walls.  Luke wondered if Calum and Ashton could hear it.

"Okay?" Michael asked.

"Uh-huh," Luke breathed, and they kissed again.

And again.  The kisses became more urgent, sloppy, their bodies flush against each other.  Luke slipped in some tongue, and Michael followed his lead, their hands clawing at each other's clothes insistently until Luke's fingers roamed towards Michael's waistband, feeling that the older boy was already hard in his boxers.  

Michael reached down to free himself from his clothing, watching Luke pull back from his mouth to spit in his hand before wrapping it around Michael's cock.

Luke seemed to become distracted by the task he'd taken on, staring down in awe at his hand working at Michael's length while the older boy kissed his neck encouragingly.

The green-haired boy was close, his hips thrusting towards Luke.  He pushed the younger boy's shorts and boxers down to his thighs, playing with the head of his cock with one hand, making Luke groan loudly.

"Shh!" Michael shushed him when Luke began to whine, shoving the fingers of his free hand between Luke's lips to silence him.

Luke made a noise of surprised confusion but sucked on the intruding fingers because he felt like that was the right thing to do, until Michael came, spilling over himself and Luke.

The fingers fell out of Luke's mouth and traveled down his body towards his ass as he looked down, slack-jawed, at the mess on his hand and the sheets.  He looked up at Michael dumbly, not really knowing what should happen next, until Michael kissed him again, using one hand to stroke Luke's cock and his saliva-coated fingers to--

"Ah!  What are you doing?!" Luke hissed, far too loudly after he realized one of Michael's fingers had breached his entrance.  Michael stilled.

"What-- what are _you_ doing?!" he shot back, gesturing towards the sticky whiteness between them.

"I--I don't know!" Luke stammered, wiping the mess off his hand on the blankets guiltily.

"You were jacking me off so _enthusiastically_ , I assumed you might like something in return!  And you said it was a gay sex dream, so--"

"Don't say it like _that_! You can't just-- it's _weird_!" Luke whined, clutching Michael's shirt tightly, "It was just a blowjob, in my dream!"

"Okay, relax," Michael said calmly and quietly, bringing both hands up to Luke's shoulders until the younger boy stopped being so flustered, "I should have asked.  What do you want me to do?  Do you want to stop?"

"No," Luke said, grinding his hips against Michael, "Do something."

"Want me to go down on you, then?"

"Don't _say_ it like that!" Luke complained again, cheeks flushed.  Michael's verbalization was making Luke _think_ too much.  They'd already dove headfirst into this thing, he decided, so he'd worry about _thinking_ later.

"Dude, do you want me to suck your dick, bro? No homo," Michael reiterated in a comically deep voice, ignoring Luke's mortified stare as he guided the younger boy onto his back and positioned himself between his legs.

Luke watched the contents of his dream unfold in the reality before him as Michael licked the length of his cock before taking it into his mouth, bobbing his head up and down.  His breaths were quick and uneven, and he scrabbled at the blankets with his fingers until Michael put his hand over Luke's in a calming gesture.  

"I'm, I'm gonna," Luke whispered awkwardly, not knowing how to articulate that he was going to cum in his best friend's mouth right then.  Normally he would say something he thought would be sexy, but now his tongue was tripping over the words.

The older boy looked up at the blonde from between his legs as if to give his permission and Luke lost it, his head falling back onto the pillows with whoosh of air.  He slapped the palm of his hand over his mouth to stop himself from making noise as he finished in Michael's mouth, hips stuttering.

Michael sat up, fixing his pants, and then Luke's, before crawling back up the bed until he was facing his breathless friend, who was staring at the ceiling.  He plopped down, propping himself up on one elbow.  He pushed Luke's sweaty blonde hair away from his forehead soothingly, with no response.

"Was that alright?  We went further than I think we both intended," Michael said finally.

"Mm-hmm," Luke replied somewhat anxiously, not making eye contact, "That was... _something_."

"We still best friends?" Michael asked, his brows furrowed worriedly.

Luke swallowed, finally turning to look in the other boy's green eyes.

"Yeah," Luke breathed, "I, uh... thank... you...for the blowjob...?"

Michael laughed.  Luke laughed too, genuinely.  Their giggles died down after a bit, only to start back up again when Michael accidentally snorted.  They laid there, giggling in each other's faces until Michael spoke, whiping tears of mirth out of his eyes.

"Gay ass," he teased, earning a smack in the arm from Luke.

"Shut up," Luke laughed, taking deep breaths to stop the giggles from returning.

The room became quiet aside from the crickets chirping just outside the window.  Michael put his arm around Luke, pulling him closer.

"Seriously, are you okay with how far we went?" he asked.

"Yeah," Luke replied, "That was... _cool_?   _Fun_?  I don't know, it was nice."

_And now I'm pretty sure I'm half in love with you because you're so amazing and attractive and make me feel like--_

_Chill_.

"Okay," Michael said, taking a relaxing breath.  His eyes fell closed, his face resting in the crook of Luke's neck.

Luke's blue eyes closed as the younger boy attempted to catch some sleep himself, but his mind was buzzing.  He tried to turn it off, but the emergency stop lever was apparently broken.

"Hey, Michael?" he asked gently.

The older boy smacked his lips drowsily, seconds away from drifting fully into slumber.

"Yeah, Luke?"

"Who was it?  The first guy you liked?"

"Um," Michael started, pulling away so he could focus without falling back asleep, "I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"I mean, it's a little late for that," Luke joked.

"I guess you're right," Michael yawned.  Then, almost hesitantly, "It was you."

Luke's heart leapt to his throat, those words too good to be true, and he immediately opened his mouth to say _holy fucking shit, I've been feeling_ \--

"But that was a _long_ fucking time ago," Michael added quickly, pulling Luke's heart out of his throat and chucking it straight into the garbage, "I promise, I really don't feel that way anymore.  I don't want you to think I had any weird motives for what we just did, I've been over you for a long time."

"I get it, you don't like me," Luke choked, forcing out a convincing chuckle as he screamed internally.

"I just don't want to give you the wrong idea, it was just a dumb thing from the past," Michael said, sighing in relief.

He felt stupid.  He felt so, so _stupid_.

"Right," Luke said, trying to force his body to unstiffen so Michael wouldn't figure out that something had gone terribly awry in the blonde's soul.

"I'm sorry, you must think I'm a fucking creep," Michael said apologetically, "But I promise it wasn't _like_ that, I really just wanted to help, not _finally get an opportunity to fuck around with my lifelong crush_ or something."

"We don't have to talk about it anymore," Luke finally snapped, his stupid feelings hurt.  He heard Michael swallow nervously, like he'd just fucked up big time, and Luke's voice softened and he shuffled in closer to the older boy. "I'm sorry, I know you just wanted to help.  The _freaking out_ stage is just setting in, I think."

"Maybe we should just forget about the whole thing, then," Michael suggested, "Pretend it didn't happen.  You figured out you like dudes on your own, you googled gay porn or something."

_Fuck, shut the fuck up._

"Maybe, yeah."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late chapter but im pretty sure the length of this one was about two of my normal updates so i hope you forgive me :')
> 
> thanks for reading/responding!


	5. Parking Lot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fuck this place, let's put up a parking lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello. no warnings.

The blonde couldn't have been more uncomfortable if he was literally, physically, burning in hell.

Luke awoke crushed in Michael's grip, the older boy's hot breath blasting in his face.  His arms were asleep, trapped under Michael's various bodyparts, so he attempted to wiggle himself out, waking up the other boy in the process.

Michael rolled away and stretched out with a satisfied groan and Luke said nothing, staring at him from across the bed.  The room was silent after Michael's display.

"'Morning," Michael greeted hesitantly.

"Hey," Luke replied lamely.

"So, um, did you... did you figure it out...?" 

"I guess I'm not as straight as I thought I was, yeah," Luke said after clearing his throat.

"Cool," Michael said, staring at his own fingers tented over his chest, "When we get back, I'll take you out sometime.  Get you hooked up with someone, if you want."

"Cool," Luke said quietly, inspecting his fingernails.

Michael looked over at him, expecting some eye contact to break the ice so they could just laugh again, but Luke pointedly refused to return his gaze.

"Oookay," the green haired boy said, patting Luke's blanket-covered knee like a dad who just gave some wildly unsuccessful advice.  He gestured in the direction of the bathroom with his thumb, "I'm, uh, gonna go shower."

"Sure," Luke said.

 

* * *

 

"Dibs on being Calum's partner!" Michael called, jogging to catch up with the brunette as the four boys made their way to the lake shore where their canoes sat.

_Oh_ , Luke thought, trying to hide his intense frown.

"Calum and I are always partners, you have your own best friend!" Ashton pouted, jokingly.

"Luke's gonna get too lazy to paddle or do something stupid like tip the boat over.  He needs your intelligence and muscles, Ash," Michael said, grunting as he and Calum pushed the canoe into the water, hearing it grind against the pebbly shore.

"Fine, but whoever makes it to the other side last has to buy dinner tonight," Ashton said, rushing towards his boat in order to get it into the water quickly.  Luke followed half-heartedly behind.

 

* * *

 

"Sorry, Ash," Luke mumbled as they had, predictably, lost the race across the lake. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, arms sore from the exertion, "The sun was in my eyes, I forgot my hat in the house."

The older boy tutted at his lame excuse disapprovingly.

"Whatever," Ashton said, "You'll have to redeem yourself during the volleyball game.  Help me set up the net, then get your ass in gear."

 

* * *

 

Luke did _not_ redeem himself during volleyball.  

A particularly violent serve from Calum flew over the net and Luke, standing on the makeshift court completely spaced-out, made no move to smack it back to the other side, though it was coming right for him.  Ashton sprung into action, diving for the ball and successfully punching it straight into the younger boy's face.

"Aw shit, I'm fucking sorry, dude," Ashton apologized as Calum jogged over with a slightly damp beach towel, applying it to the blonde's bleeding nose as he sat with his legs folded under him on the ground.

"You should have been paying attention to the game instead of the elevator music in your head," Michael teased, tossing a plastic water bottle towards his friend.

Luke caught it, staring up at the other boy humorlessly as he cracked it open.

"Tough crowd," Michael said, frowning.

"We'll take a break from volleyball.  Maybe we should play something with less injury potential, like beer pong," Calum suggested.

"Actually, I think I'm just gonna go hang out inside for a bit," Luke said after taking a few gulps of water.  He took the bloodied towel from Calum, pushing himself to his feet.

"Are you okay?  Did I give you a concussion?" Ashton asked, concerned.  Luke _loved_ beer pong.  Passing up a game was uncharacteristic.

"No, I'm fine," Luke laughed, slightly muffled by the cloth held to his nose, "I just don't feel well today.  Must be hungover or something.  And there's blood all over me, so that's gross."

"He's just trying to get out of paying for dinner," Ashton grumbled, watching the blonde retreat towards the cabin.

* * *

 

Luke laid on the couch in the living room, staring at the ceiling.  His hands were clasped over his chest and one leg dangled off the side of the cushions.  The news was on TV for background noise, just about the only channel available way out in the middle of nowhere.

He didn't even know what he was so damn _salty_ about.  He'd always known Michael as his best friend and nothing more, so it should be easy to just forget about it.  There was nothing there until a few days ago.  

_Except_ for two years ago when Michael and his then-boyfriend jokingly entertained the idea of living together, and Luke's panic alarm started blaring because Michael was about to be taken away from him and he flipped a shit and Michael didn't bring it up again and didn't bring that boy to their dorm room anymore.  Luke's generally negative responses towards Michael's dates was a source of tension for the pair's friendship, though the blonde normally found his reactions to be perfectly rational.  Now, though, Luke realized, feeling jealous of his best friend's partners just seemed-- _weird_.

Luke frowned.

But there was nothing there, _except_ for the fact that Luke limited his relationships to the occasional one night stand because if they got too serious, they always seemed to get in the way of him spending time with Michael, which was unacceptable.  

Luke frowned some more.

Absolutely nothing, _but_ when Michael came to live with Luke's family in high school, they'd slept much too close in the younger boy's bed while his parents fixed up the office into a guest room.  And then, when Michael had his own bed and his own room, Luke found himself compelled to continue sleeping with the other boy " _so he wouldn't be alone_ " even though Michael had slept on the living room couch by himself the thousands of times he'd slept over before.

_Well, fuck_ , Luke thought, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.  So _that's_ what that was.

The screen patio door slid open.  Luke craned his neck towards the sound, seeing Michael sliding it back shut behind him as he entered.  Michael glanced at him, and the blonde quickly put his ice pack _(really, just a bunch of ice slowly soaking through his balled up and ruined shirt)_ back up to his face and stared at the television, finding an excuse not to make eye contact.

The older boy shuffled into the living room, standing in front of the couch for a moment like he was going to start speaking.  However, Luke neglected to look up at him, eyes trained on the weather forecast, so Michael sighed dejectedly and continued on down the hall into the bathroom.  Luke grimaced when Michael didn't bother to shut the door while peeing, but was slightly appeased when he at least had the decency to wash his hands afterwards.

Michael returned to the living room, drying his hands on his floral swim trunks.  He cleared his throat, awkwardly looking down at the younger boy.

"Hey, Luke?" he said, and the blonde knew he couldn't just ignore a blatant request for attention, so he finally dragged his gaze up to Michael's face.

"Yeah?" Luke asked, resting the ice pack on the floor next to him.

"Do you hate me forever now?" Michael asked, swallowing nervously.

Luke scoffed.  He _wished_.

"No," he said shortly.  

"Are you sure?  I was just trying to help, but I--" Michael choked out.

"Oh, don't do _that_ ," Luke warned as he sat up, hearing the dangerous wobbles in Michael's voice.  Luke's demand was met with involuntary defiance as the older boy's green eyes brimmed with tears.

"I-- I wanted you to _feel_ better, but-- I just feel like I made everything _worse_ and, like, now you're not gonna want to be _around me_ anymore because of what--"

"Stop," Luke interrupted helplessly, wanting Michael to stop crying before his own empathatic tears kicked in, "Please. It's fine, I promise."

"No it's _not_!  You're going to move out and stop being my best friend!" Michael practically wailed, wiping his running nose with a hoodie sleeve.

" _Jesus_ ," the blonde hissed, snatching Michael's wrist and yanking the other boy towards him until he landed on his knees on the floor in front of Luke.  He swallowed hard, trying to overcome his own shaking voice and misty eyes, "No, I'm fucking _not_ , so stop fucking crying!  It's!   _Fine_!"

"Whatever, you're lying," Michael frowned, scrubbing furiously at his eyes.

"Look, I feel fucking _weird_ , alright?  But it has nothing to do with you personally, it's my own shit.  It's just not a good day.  But it'll be _fine_ , it was just a damn blowjob!" Luke said, raising his voice, choosing to get angry instead of sobbing along with Michael.

Both boys whipped their heads around at the sound of a voice.  They evidently hadn't heard the front door click open, and Calum was standing near the fridge, popping open a bottle of beer.

"Haha, what kind of conversation did I just walk into?" he joked.

"Get the fuck _out_ of here!" Luke shouted in answer, waving his arms irritably.

The brunette looked offended but complied after looking between the two boys' serious expressions.

"Sheesh, kicked out of my own damn cabin," Calum muttered, closing the wooden door behind him as he left.

"I just don't want this to be weird.  It was such a stupid idea, I wish we hadn't fucking done anything at all," Michael groaned.

"Yeah, I get that," Luke said, feeling his eyebrow twitch.

"And, like, how fucking _creepy_ of me to tell you I used to like you.  I can't even _imagine_ what you think of me right now," Michael went on.

"No, you _can't_ ," the younger boy muttered, wishing Michael would really stop talking.

"Like _fuck_ , you _have_ to believe me when I say I _really_ don't like you like--"

Boy, he always knows _just_ what to say.

"Okay, Michael!" Luke snapped, forcing out an obviously fake laugh, "Okay, I know." He cleared his throat, trying to sound a little less manic, "I know.  Please stop worrying about it.  And _talking_ about it.  Seriously, I promise I'm not moving out and I promise we're still best friends even if I'm acting weird because I'm having my own identity crisis.  Alright?"

"Okay," Michael agreed.  Then, "Can I sit with you?  I'm sick of playing sports."

"Yeah," Luke said quietly, taking up his former lounging position on the couch, assuming the green haired boy would go for the armchair and leave him in peace.  

Instead, Michael stood up, grasping both of Luke's ankles and lifting the younger boy's legs so he could maneuver onto the sofa as well, letting Luke's legs rest across his lap once he was all settled in.

At this point, Luke simply wanted to crawl under the couch and stay hidden there for an undetermined amount of time, but instead he sat silently with Michael as the older boy scrolled through his Facebook feed on his phone, occasionally showing the blonde random videos of puppies he'd found, and Luke pretended he was paying attention to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for my absence.


	6. Summer Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joke me something awful just like kisses on the necks of "best friends"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter warnings: sexual content

"We only have one tent, Ashton," Michael reminded the older boy, setting his empty cereal bowl down on the coffee table, "And it's definitely not going to fit all four of us."

"It barely fits two of us," Luke added with a snort, arms crossed as he slouched on the sofa, shoulder-to-shoulder with Michael.

Things had felt much better between the pair since their conversation in the living room two days prior, aside from the constant longing ache in Luke's chest.  But putting that aside, he'd been able to loosen up a bit for the sake of their friendship and the vacation.

Ashton, however, was getting restless.  Canoeing and fishing and hiking and frisbee weren't good enough for him anymore.  Now, he wanted to camp.  He wanted to really _camp_.

"So we'll bring my SUV, or Luke's truck, and two of us can sleep in the back, and two of us can take the tent," Ashton suggested.  The three other boys shared a hesitant look. "Come on, guys!  You wouldn't even have to shit in the woods because the campsite has its own bathrooms!"

Eventually, Calum shrugged.

"I'll do it," he said, "If _you_ buy the alcohol, hotdogs, and s'mores supplies.   _And_ set up the tent and start our campfire."

"That's reasonable," Luke agreed, nodding.  Michael murmured in agreement as well.

"Yeah, I don't wanna have to do shit," Michael said, "I wanna get drunk around a fire that Ashton makes with his own blood, sweat, and tears."

Ashton bounced excitedly, practically running for the front door so he could immediately get into his car and drive to town for the camping supplies.

* * *

 

"This isn't so bad," Calum said, holding a marshmallow on a stick over the fire that Ashton had actually expertly created.  Extensive Googling and extreme physical precision had gone into the structure of the logs and sticks.  He took a swig from the bottle of Jack Daniels the boys were passing around the campfire and grimaced, quickly chasing the burn with a sip from his can of Coke.  He thrust the alcohol towards Luke. " _That_ is bad."

"Pussy," Luke teased, putting the bottle of whiskey to his own lips. "Sorry Ashton didn't buy your favorite piss beer for tonight."

He handed the Jack to Michael, whose fingers briefly brushed Luke's in the process.  That _weird_ feeling returned, like Luke was being haunted by a vengeful spirit.

 _God, don't do this right now_ , Luke thought frustratedly.  He snatched the bottle back from Michael, taking a longer swig from the whiskey before actually handing it over, as if it was going to numb his ugly feelings.

Less than an hour later, Luke found that the alcohol was absolutely doing the opposite of what he wanted it to do, when the blonde found himself cuddled into Michael's side on the log they'd been using as a seat by the fire.

Michael was in the middle of telling a story, and Luke was staring at him through half-lidded eyes, inches away from the older boy's face.  Suddenly, Michael giggled, causing his eyes to crinkle adorably.

"What?" Ashton asked, laughing himself. They were all a little more than tipsy, at this point, so the giggles were more infectious than usual.

"Sorry, I just--" Michael turned to Luke, laughing again when the younger boy's expression and eye contact didn't change, "I can just, like, _feel_ your eyes on me, like _super_ close, and it's distracting me."

Luke blinked, pulling back a bit.

"Oh," he said.   _I made him uncomfortable_ , Luke thought glumly.  He scooted a few inches away from Michael, until the two were no longer touching.  The blonde rested his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands, instead of on the green haired boy's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

Michael looked at him, a confused smile on his face.  He raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't say you had to move, I just thought it was funny, how you were staring at me so intensely."

"It's okay," Luke said shortly, "I'd fall asleep if I kept sitting like that, anyway."

Michael stared at him a moment longer before shrugging and continuing with his story.

Luke and Michael fell back into their cuddling position as the bottle was passed around the circle again, turning their collective buzz into solid intoxication.  

"I think, I think we should all-- shut up Ashton, shhh let me talk, I think--" 

Calum's voice blurred into the background as Luke found himself staring closely at Michael again, watching the way the fire reflected in the older boy's green eyes and the way it illuminated his features.  He was softly stroking Michael's hand with his fingertips. 

 _I should tell him how I feel_ , Luke thought hazily, bringing his other hand up from the log and trailing it onto Michael's thigh.

The object of Luke's affection glanced at him briefly, then down at his thigh, and then looked back to the conversation between Calum and Ashton.

Frowning, Luke patted Michael's thigh more intently, and nuzzled his face into the older boy's neck.

Tell him how you _feel_.

"Luke, stop," Michael whispered, shrugging Luke off of him.

Heart shredding in two, Luke immediately straightened, clearing his throat.  The next thing he knew, Michael had stood up, walking around the fire to where Ashton sat across from the pair, and made a show of grabbing a marshmallow from the bag.  However, he also pointedly sat back down next to Ashton instead of returning to his spot by Luke once he'd retrieved a marshmallow.

Luke crossed his arms and ignored the way his face grew hot with humiliation.  He blinked quickly, willing away the stinging sensation in the corners of his eyes.  

He grabbed the quarter-full bottle of Jack Daniels and took a long sip, barely feeling the burn of it.  Calum clapped and gave a cheer of approval, and Luke cracked a smile at him.

"Luke's a fuckin' tank!" Ashton hollered, standing up to take the bottle for himself from across the dying fire.

* * *

 

"How do we decide who gets the tent?" Ashton yawned, leaning heavily on Michael, who Luke hadn't stopped staring at with his big round _hurt_ eyes since he'd sat down next to the wavy-haired boy.

"I don't feel good," Luke said, "I wanna sleep in the back of the truck so I can breathe."

"Ugh, well I don't wanna sleep with you if you're gonna puke on me," Calum said, wrinkling his nose.

"Same here," Ashton agreed.

"You all can sleep in the tent, I don't mind," Luke said embarrassedly, bringing his knees up to rest under his chin.  He'd probably get snatched up by Bigfoot or whatever, but so what?

"I'll sleep with you, Luke," Michael offered.

"That's okay, you don't have to."

"No, I want to.  Tent's too small anyway." 

* * *

 

"Hey," Michael whispered, entirely too close to the younger boy as they laid together under the stars, the back of the pickup truck filled with most of the cabin's supply of blankets and pillows.  He'd taken initiative and scooted in when Luke hadn't made any move to cuddle up for the night, and Luke was screaming internally at the feeling of Michael's fingers running up and down the sides of his ribs. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," Luke breathed, nearly nose-to-nose with the other boy, staring directly into his green eyes.  Michael's breath smelled like liquor, reminding Luke that he wasn't the only one drunk off his ass.

That _weird_ feeling reared its ugly head once more as a twinge in Luke's stomach.  Luke found himself petting Michael's back absentmindedly, and their legs were tangled together under the blankets, and there was just a fucking _weird_ tension between them.  It wasn't humid out, but the cool and crisp night air felt thick and heavy, like a growing thunderstorm.  Luke wanted to pull away and curl up in a ball alone in the corner, but at the same time he wanted Michael to literally absorb his entire being.  Something was supposed to happen, now.

Finally, the blonde was unable to stand the intensity of staring into each other's eyes any longer, and he buried his face in Michael's neck.  His heart was pounding, and he knew Michael could feel it.  After much drunken deliberation, Luke placed a kiss on the older boy's collarbone, and held his breath in anticipation for Michael's reaction.

Michael let out a soft sigh, and pulled Luke in further, closer to him until their bellies were touching.  Luke unburied himself to look back at Michael, and suddenly their eyes were screwed shut and they were kissing, sloppy, with tongue.

The green haired boy rolled on top of Luke, causing the truck to creak loudly.  They froze, Luke's fingernails digging into Michael's back desperately, his forehead resting against the older boy's shoulder as he caught his breath.  Without hearing any rustling from inside the nearby tent, Michael continued, slowly kissing down Luke's neck until he found a spot he wanted to lick and suck.  Luke shuddered, grinding himself against Michael's thigh between his legs and letting out a strangled moan.  His grip on Michael tightened further and he tensed up, overwhelmed.

"Sh, you're okay," Michael said quietly, stroking Luke's bicep gently.  Luke's muscles were wound tight with anxiety (the good kind _and_ the bad kind), and he knew Michael wanted him to relax.  He let out a shaky breath, trying to prove to him that he was _fine_. "Should I stop?"

"No," Luke hissed, wrapping his legs around Michael's waist, "I want this."

He rutted against the older boy, his hands going towards Michael's hair and tugging on it eagerly.

"Michael," he whimpered, his uncoordinated thrusts becoming more insistent, "Michael, Michael."

Michael, previously occupied with creating what would become embarrassing red marks on Luke's throat and collarbone, moved further up to kiss Luke on the mouth in an attempt to quiet him.  He reached down for the tent in Luke's joggers and only had to stroke him a few times through the material before the younger boy was coming hard, digging his fingers painfully into Michael's flesh and then flopping limply back on the pile of pillows, exhausted.

Michael crawled off of him and Luke attempted to follow, his already foggy senses a little too overstimulated to properly help Michael in return.

"It's okay, I got it," Michael whispered, pulling the too-hot covers off himself so he could relieve his own hard-on with his hand.

But Luke was insistent upon being helpful and ended up with Michael's cock shoved down his throat, the older boy encouraging him through his low moans.  It was harder to keep himself from gagging than it looked, according to the porn Luke had watched in his career as a young adult.  Determined to give an excellent first blowjob, he elected to ignore Michael's hair pulls and whispered warnings, and received a warm mouthful of cum that he almost choked on like an idiot.  He stared at Michael with wide eyes, holding the cum in his mouth helplessly, with some of it oozing down his chin.  He was still _so_ fucking drunk and unprepared for this new and frankly unpleasant experience.

"Are you gonna swallow it?" Michael asked.  Luke shook his head jerkily in response. "Then _spit it out!_ "

Luke nodded quickly, leaning over the side of the truck and spitting onto the grass a few times.  Michael reached out and grabbed the blonde by his elbow, pulling him down onto the covers to kiss him some more.

They pulled apart for the last time and Luke's stomach turned nervously, now that it was all over.  Michael was petting Luke's hair gently, and Luke waited for the older boy to roll over and tell Luke that they shouldn't mention this again, but he didn't.

"Why didn't you wanna sit by me?" Luke asked, finally.

"Hmm?"

"When we were sitting around the fire, and I was... and you just got up and went to sit by Ashton.   _Why?_ "

"I just didn't know if you knew what you were doing, and I didn't want you to be embarrassed about it in the morning if you didn't," Michael explained, "But when we got in the truck, you said you wanted this, so... we did that."

Luke furrowed his eyebrows, propping himself up on one elbow.

" _I_ wanted this?  And _you_ didn't?" he asked, accusatory.

"Um, it's just--"

"Just _what_?"

"I did, I _did_ want it!" Michael insisted quickly, glancing at Luke's unamused expression, "I just, it-- makes me nervous, y'know?  I don't want us to get upset at each other again."

Luke took a breath, relaxing a little.

"Yeah," he agreed.  Then, bitterly, "So you want to go back to pretending this never happened?"

"No," Michael said.  Luke's lips parted in surprise and he raised an eyebrow at the older boy. "That caused too much weird tension. I think, now that we've done this, we should just... see what happens?  Like, if it doesn't happen again, cool, if it turns into something that happens sometimes, that's cool too, it's just-- we have to remember our friendship comes first.  If it turns out it's best for our friendship to never mention it again, we'll do that, but at this point, I think it's better to acknowledge it as a thing."

"Cool," Luke said, heart beating fast.

"I don't want you to get the wrong idea," Michael added, taking Luke's short answer for uncertainty, "I'm not like, trying to force you into being my _boyfriend_ or something."

"Good, that'd be _weird_ ," Luke said, plastering a tight-lipped smile on his face.

* * *

Groaning, Luke rolled over in the pile of blankets and pillows covering the back of his truck.  He smacked his dry lips and his eyes squinted against the bright sunlight and he instantly wished he hadn't drank so much.  He sat up, feeling a soreness in his neck.  Luke groaned again upon seeing a lone hickey on Michael's collarbone, and reached for his phone to use as a mirror.  His own neck and collarbones were littered with bruises, and he smacked Michael not-so-gently until the older boy blinked himself into consciousness.

" _Michael!_ " Luke hissed, "Look what you did to me!"

"Oh jeez," Michael said, letting out a yawning laugh, "You'd need a fuckin' turtleneck to cover that shit up."

"What am I going to _do_?" Luke grit out frustratedly.

Michael propped himself up, waving his hands dismissively.

"Calm down, calm down," he said with another yawn, "Maybe they won't say anything about it if you just play it cool."

* * *

 

"My pancake looks like an ass," Calum muttered, picking the lopsided pancake off his paper plate and waving it in the air.

"Hey, shut up, it's harder than it looks," Luke grumbled, using a spatula to scrape another ugly pancake off the skillet he'd been holding over the fire.

Michael had created a contraption out of branches, a pan, and duct tape, which allowed the boys to actually cook the pancake mix Ashton had brought along without burning their hands.  

"If Ashton had actually thought this out, we'd have decent-looking pancakes," Michael complained, "I'm pretty sure we were supposed to bring a grill or something."

"I dunno, I just saw it on a Buzzfeed list," Ashton said, shrugging.

Luke sat a polite distance away from Michael on the log they were sharing as a seat, digging into his syrup-drowned breakfast.  The blonde was doing his best to ignore the marks on his neck, but dammit, they _hurt_.

There was silence when they finished eating, and Ashton and Calum and Michael kept glancing at each other while Luke kept his head down.

"So," Calum said finally, "We're just ignoring the thousand hickies all over Luke?"

Michael shifted uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck with one hand.

"Well--" he started.

"We were super trashed," Luke interrupted, giving Calum a sheepish grin, "We made out.  It was funny.  It doesn't matter."

"Just guys being dudes," Michael agreed, "It was nothing."

"Ah," Calum said, "In that case, we'll go back to ignoring it, because I don't really want to think about it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!


	7. Let Me Perfect It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I feel the salty waves come in  
> I feel them crash against my skin  
> And I smile as I respire because I know they'll never win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no chapter warnings, just heed the tags!

Luke kicked at the corner rod of the tent, gritting his teeth in frustration.  Ashton had set the tent up within fifteen minutes, and Luke, being tasked with putting the tent away, had been struggling to collapse the thing for at least twenty.  He knew there was a button, or a certain way to twist, or whatever, he just didn't know the logistics of it.  Calum and Michael got the easy job of gathering the trash in a bag and carrying it to the campsite's dumpster.

 _Fuck it_ , he thought, grabbing the rod and pulling as hard as he could, finally managing to pull it out of the socket.   _One side down, three to go._

"What are you doing?" Ashton asked from behind the blonde, causing him to jump in surprise.

"Uh, tearing down the tent," he said, hoping Ashton hadn't seen how rough he was being with the expensive camping equipment.

"No, I mean with Michael," Ashton said.

"Oh, um, I dunno," Luke replied, confused, "Like I said, we were just drunk."

"That's just really out of character for you.  Since you're straight and all."

"Maybe I'm trying to figure some things out, and Michael's helping.  I'm just, like, experimenting," Luke said, cheeks reddening, "It's not really your business, no offense."

"Michael's not the person you should be fucking around with.  Use someone else to figure your shit out, not him," Ashton said tersely.  

Luke's mouth hung open as he tried to figure out what to say.  Ashton seemed angry at him, and he didn't know why.

"Why does it _matter_?" Luke asked snottily.

"Because you shouldn't use your best friend like that!"

"I'm not using him!  It's just-- I trust him, and-- and _he's_ the one who suggested we do shit in the first place!" Luke argued, "If he's having an issue, he can tell me himself!  Why are you so worried about it?"

"I can't tell you," Ashton said through grit teeth, "You just need to--"

"Then fuck off and mind your own business," Luke spat, ripping another pole out of its socket in anger, "I'm already stressed about this whole thing, I'm not going to bother with your shadiness.  If you wanna give me an actual reason, we can talk." 

* * *

 

Over the next few days, Luke was trapped in his own head, overanalyzing all of Michael's gestures and body language that once seemed so natural.

The way he grinned at Luke in the morning, making sure the blonde received the first plate of eggs and bacon hot off the stovetop.  The way he looked at Luke when he thought he wasn't paying attention.  The way he offered up his jacket before Luke even had a chance to complain about the cold.  The way he knelt down and said " _hop on_ " at the slightest grumble about Luke's feet hurting.  The way he automatically slung his arm around Luke's shoulders when they sat on the couch to watch one of Calum's shitty DVDs.

Luke attempted to return the gestures in hopes that the older boy would get the hint, but only seemed successful in making Michael feel awkward and skittish.

"Sorry," Michael had whispered, quickly shifting in his bar stool so the pair's thighs were no longer touching -- where Luke had purposely positioned them.

"It's fine," Luke replied, his hand resting on Michael's shoulder a few seconds too long for the green haired boy's comfort.

Michael laughed nervously, picking up his glass of beer and downing it quickly.

* * *

 

"Oops," Michael had whispered, snatching his hand away from where it rested on the sofa cushion -- underneath Luke's hand, "I was in the way - you can put your hand there."

Luke looked at Michael quizzically, and the older boy quickly averted his green eyes.  Luke sighed, crossing his arms and flopping back in his seat.  He rested his cheek on Michael's shoulder, and the other boy tolerated it for a moment.  But then he grabbed a throw pillow and shoved it between Luke's face and his shoulder.

"Here you go, sorry for hogging the pillows," Michael said quietly.  

 _God, this sucks_ , Luke thought, letting out an irritated puff of air through his nostrils. 

* * *

 

It seemed that the pair was only brave enough to fool around after they'd put a few beers away - or at least, they'd drink a beer or two _(because who the fuck goes up north if not to drink themselves silly)_ , claim to be drunk, and use it as an excuse to fool around.  Then they would laugh, go to sleep, and wake up pretending this was a perfectly normal thing to do. 

* * *

"What's up?" Michael asked, upon walking into their shared bedroom and seeing Luke laying face down on the bed, "Are you packed up yet?"

"I don't wanna drive," Luke groaned into the quilt, "I feel like we just got here, and now you people want me to drive all the way home?"

"I can drive part of the way," Michael offered, grinning.  He already knew the answer to that suggestion.

"Noooo," Luke said, pounding his fists on the mattress like a child throwing a tantrum, "You can't touch my truck."

"Oh, come on," Michael said, the mattress dipping with his added weight as he sat down, "We'll drive a few hours--"

" _I'll_ drive a few hours," Luke grumbled.

"You'll drive a few hours, we'll stop somewhere to eat, get back on the road for a bit, and then find somewhere to sleep.  We can even stay at your favorite trashy hotel again," Michael teased.

"You can go stuff yourself in Ashton's car if you're gonna give me that attitude."

* * *

 

"Get off the highway here," Michael said, making a pinching motion with his fingers to zoom in on the map on his iPhone, "There's a strip of hotels."

They'd decided to take an alternate route to avoid the achingly long state of Illinois, and found themselves in the middle of another achingly long state called _Fucking Indiana_ when Luke's eyes began to feel dry with the desire to rest.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Michael snapped as Luke pulled into the first one on the strip, "You said I could pick the hotel this time."

"This one's cheap," Luke yawned.

"Exactly.  Now fuck off and go to the one further down the block.  The one that can _actually_ afford to illuminate their neon sign."

* * *

 

The nice hotel with the continental breakfast and clean bathrooms and doors that actually had working locks had a room with two beds available, unlike the moldy little room they'd stayed in on their way to Calum's cabin.  Luke was a little disappointed, even moreso when Michael didn't show any signs of displeasure when they entered the room and dropped their bags on their separate beds.

"Feels good to be able to stretch out for once," Luke noted as Michael came out of the bathroom, toothbrush in hand.

"Really?" Michael asked, mouth full of toothpaste.

"Yeah, I've missed having my own bed.  Not that you're a bad sleeping partner or anything."

"Oh," Michael said, walking back to the bathroom sink to finish brushing his teeth.  After spitting, he said, "I was gonna ask to sleep in your bed with you, but I guess I'll leave you alone for the night."

Luke sat up quickly.

"You can still sleep with me if you want," he said, probably sounding a bit too eager, "I was just saying.  This bed is bigger than the one in the cabin, anyway."

"Nah," Michael said, settling himself into his own bed a few feet away from Luke's, "I'll let you stretch out for once.  I know you're used to having your own space, so  I don't wanna overstay my welcome."

"Alright," Luke said through clenched teeth, mentally slapping himself for being such a fucking idiot.  

 

* * *

 

Luke rubbed his tired eyes with one hand, setting his Xbox controller onto the arm of the sofa.

"I need to go to bed, for real this time," he yawned, having agreed to Michael's pleas of _'one more level, c'mon'_ for over an hour.  He untangled his legs from Michael's, the older boy refusing to help him free himself.

The blonde stood up and stretched, adjusting the hem of his black tanktop where it had ridden up on his stomach.  

"Fine," Michael grumbled in faux-anger, grabbing the remote to turn off the game.

"Sorry, bitch," Luke joked, checking the time on his phone.  A hesitant question lingered on his tongue, and he stood staring awkwardly at his phone in a weird silence for a moment too long.  Michael looked up at him expectantly, knowing this body language usually meant something like ' _hold on, let me show you this thing on my phone.'_  He shoved his phone into the pocket of his basketball shorts and instead wrung his hands together, forcing himself to look at Michael. "Um, would you want to... uh, join me?"

"Huh?" Michael replied, sitting up straighter.

"You don't have to," Luke amended quickly, "It's just, we've been home for like two weeks and-- I'm uh, we haven't-- we don't have to fuck around or anything, I was just asking if you wanted to, uh, join me.  Sleeping, in my bed," he finished lamely.

"Um," Michael said, like the gears in his brain had stopped working.  He shook his head to clear his thoughts, tossing the remote onto the cushions and standing up, "Yeah, okay."

"Okay, cool."

 

* * *

 

Luke rolled over in the dark to face Michael, who had been too still and awkwardly quiet since they'd climbed into Luke's bed.  They had just a thin sheet covering them, the humid air coming through the open window was much hotter than the comparatively cool Wisconsin air.

"Did you _want_ to sleep with me?" Luke asked, stomach turning.

Michael blinked at him.

"Yeah," he said.

"It's just, we haven't really mentioned it since getting back," Luke said, "Any of it."

The older boy shifted, his black painted fingernails reaching out to fiddle with the simple necklace Luke always wore.

"I didn't really know how you felt about doing that, now that we're home and don't have the excuse of doing dumb shit on vacation," Michael explained, watching how the silver chain reflected the moonlight, "Like, if you thought it should stop once we got back--"

"I liked what we were doing."

Michael let out a breath, like he could finally breathe, and Luke felt his body relax.

"Yeah, me too," he replied, seemingly relieved.

He snuggled in, pushing Luke's hair back so he could kiss the younger boy's forehead.

* * *

"Hey, Luke?" Michael asked from his seat at the dining table.  He shoved some Cheetos into his mouth while waiting for his roommate's reply.

Luke turned down the music blasting through his earbuds when he heard his own name.  He finished pouring his protein powder into his blender bottle and shook it up.

"Yeah, what?" he asked, using the towel around his neck to wipe sweat off his face.  He'd just come back from the gym to find that Michael hadn't moved at all in the hour he'd been gone.

"You ever put anything up your ass?" Michael asked casually.

Luke's grip faltered on the bottle and it slipped out of his hand, bouncing on the counter without spilling its contents.  He quickly picked it up and ripped his earbuds out.

" _What_?"

"Sorry, I didn't notice you were listening to music," Michael apologized, "I was just asking if you've ever put anything up your ass."

Instead of answering, Luke popped the cap on his blender bottle and chugged his protein shake, tossing the empty container in the sink when he was finished.

"I gotta go shower," he said, putting his earbuds back in and walking up the stairs towards the bathroom.

"That's a no?" Michael called after him, "Wash your butthole extra carefully, I got shit to show you!  You're gonna love it!"

 

* * *

 

Steam wafted from the open door as Luke exited the bathroom, his hair a damp curly mess around his face.  He dressed himself in shorts and a t-shirt, tossing his hair into a bun before heading downstairs.

He wandered into Michael's bedroom after being unable to locate the older boy in the dining room or living room.  Michael was reclined on the bed, playing a game on his phone.

"What were you doing in there, jacking off?  You took forever," Michael asked.

"Shut up," Luke said.

Michael looked up at him, grinning.

" _What_ ," Luke sneered.

"You didn't laugh!  You totally _were_ jacking off in there!" Michael laughed.

"Y'know, I think you're becoming a little too comfortable with this," Luke replied.

"What, you wanna go back to a few weeks ago when we got back from Calum's place and kept giving eachother weird tense handjobs and made sure to sleep silently on opposite sides of the bed and then didn't make eye contact the next day?" Michael asked, grabbing Luke's wrist and tugging him onto the bed, "Come here."

They kissed when Luke landed on top of Michael on the mattress until the blonde pulled away to answer.

"No, but I feel like that would be a whole lot more normal for this situation," he said quietly, feeling Michael's fingers on the waistband of his shorts.  

"Nothing about this is normal," Michael scoffed, "You're in my room right now instead of making yourself dinner and sitting down to watch Netflix because you're hoping I was serious before about putting shit up your ass."

Michael pressed his lips to Luke's neck, digging his nails into the younger boy's hips for emphasis.

" _Aren't you_?" he purred.

Luke kissed him again to avoid the question, and in hopes that Michael would keep his eyes closed and not see how red Luke's cheeks were.

 

* * *

 

When they moved on from fingers and toys to _real human dick_ a little over three weeks later, Luke assumed he must have sounded like a fucking broken squeaky toy because Michael kept stopping to ask if he was _sure_ he was alright.  Luke's answer of choice was pulling the green-haired boy in closer and clawing the shit out of his back with his surprisingly sharp fingernails.

He'd come twice by the time Michael was through with him, which was another fucking amazing feat Luke didn't even know was possible.

They giggled in bed afterwards, the echoes of Luke's overly enthusiastic sounds playing over in their heads.  Michael nipped playfully at Luke's sweaty skin, making his way from his shoulder to his neck and all the way up to his jaw.

Luke took Michael's hand and brought it to his chest, their interlaced fingers resting against Luke's rapid heartbeat.  He kissed Michael's temple.

"Love you," Luke said, smushing his cheek against Michael's forehead.

"You too," Michael sighed contentedly.

 

* * *

 

"What are you in such a good mood for?" Ashton asked in between licking wing sauce off his fingers.

Luke inhaled a chicken wing expertly, tossing the bone back into the cardboard container.

"I can't just be happy?" he scoffed.

"Mm, it's not just a happy vibe," Ashton said thoughtfully, "It's like, a _testosterone-y masculine conquest_ type of mood.  Did you go out last night?"

"Maybe," Luke said nonchalantly, sipping his boot-shaped glass of beer.

"So you _did_ get laid.  Did you meet someone?"

"No."

"Old hookup?" Ashton asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Not _so_ old," he shrugged.

"Hmmm," Ashton hummed, drumming his fingers on the tabletop, "Okay, I'm gonna guess, you tell me if I'm right.  Blonde?"

"No."

"Brunette?"

"Nope."

"Jesus," Ashton muttered, rubbing the scruff on his chin, "So she's gotta have black hair."

"Uh-uh," Luke disagreed.

"Damn it.  Kinky?"

"Ehhh, you could say so," Luke said, considering.  He nodded, "Yeah, I suppose.  Not something I've done before."

"Okay.  So you've hooked up with her before, she doesn't have blonde, brown, or black hair, and it was somewhat kinky?  Jeez, I dunno.  It's not that girl with all the wigs, is it?" Ashton asked, grimacing.  The one with all the wigs was... a handful.

Luke laughed.

"No, not her."

The older boy threw his hands in the air in frustration.

"Well fuck, man, I don't know.  Just tell me, then," he said, rolling his eyes.

"I didn't say it was a girl, first off," Luke muttered, shoving another wing in his mouth to delay his responsibility to answer his friend.

Ashton's eyes narrowed and he mouthed Luke's words to himself like it would help him crack the code faster.  Upon realizing what the blonde meant, Ashton stiffened, a big fat frown on his face.

"You fucked Michael," he said.  

Luke didn't have to officially confirm it because it wasn't a question.  He wasn't embarrassed or nervous to tell Ashton - he'd been giddy to share the news with someone all day, as if it was an important milestone in his life, like graduation or a job promotion or some shit.  

"Actually," Luke said, moving onto eating his french fries with his messy fingers, "It was sort of the other way around.  It was so interesting because--"

"I told you not to screw around with him," Ashton interrupted.

"Okay yeah, _it's not a good idea and we're gonna ruin our friendship and tear this friend group apart and whatever._  Save it for someone who cares.  Don't you want to know how it was?"

"I'm not particularly interested in hearing about your bad choices."

Luke pouted.  He didn't want a lecture.  He should've just told Calum.   _Calum_ would've laughed.

"We've been hooking up since the beginning of summer and _clearly_ it hasn't been an issue because no one's noticed," Luke said, rolling his eyes, "It's just sex."

"Maybe for _you_."

"Maybe for _me_?  What-- what are you even talking about?" Luke asked incredulously, "If you have a problem, just tell me!"

"Don't wave your hotsauce fingers in my face!" Ashton said, "And I told you before, I can't--"

"You can."

"No, I--"

"Yep!  You definitely _can_!"

"If I could--"

"Sorry, don't wanna hear it unless you're gonna tell me _why_ I can't fuck whoever I want!"

"Luke, you're being really immature--"

"Lalalalala," Luke sang, shutting his eyes to ignore Ashton's excuses.

The brunette grabbed Luke's outstretched arm, yanking his wrist down until it smacked the top of the table.  Luke glared at him, snatching his arm away so he could wipe his hands on the pile of napkins in front of him. 

"Whatever, Ashton."

"Shut up!" Ashton said through grit teeth, "You shouldn't fuck around with Michael because he actually _really_ fucking _likes_ you!"

Luke froze in the middle of ripping open one of the wet napkins that were set next to the ketchup and mustard bottles.  His heart made a weird thunking sound in his chest.  He quickly recovered, staring at Ashton suspiciously.

"No he doesn't," he spat, "Since when?"

"Since a long time ago.  Pretty much always."

"Well, you must not have spoken to him about it recently," Luke said with a sneer, "Because he already told me he used to like me.  He got over it a long time ago, too."

"We talked about it literally a week before we left for Calum's house, idiot," Ashton replied with a sigh, "He first told me a few months after we met, and then during finals week, he said he really wanted to tell you when you two drove up to the cabin.  Y'know, not to ask you out or anything, but just to _tell_ you.  But then he was texting me saying you were super grumpy and he chickened out.  So if he got over you within the span of two weeks, that's pretty fucking _convenient_."

Luke's mouth opened and closed, searching his brain for an answer.  Finally, he just put his head down on the table.   _All this time!_

"Fuck!" he shouted (in a thankfully somewhat-muffled voice), punching himself in the leg.

"Shh!  God, I shouldn't have told you-- he wasn't sure if he ever wanted you to know, like, _ever_ , because he's so afraid you'll get freaked out and think he's some freaky pining horror movie best friend _The Roommate_ -type thing-- but I don't want him to get hurt by whatever the fuck you're doing."

Luke started to laugh, his forehead still firmly on the table.   _All this fucking time_!  Worrying and overthinking and being anxious for goddamn _nothing_!

"Alright, please tell me whether you're about to pick up that butter knife and stab me, or if you're just weirdly happy about this whole thing, because I'm not liking these creepy giggles," Ashton said hesitantly.

Shoving his stool away from the table, Luke stood up, a wide grin on his face.  He pulled his leather wallet from the back pocket of his black skinny jeans and plucked a twenty-dollar bill out, slapping it on the counter in front of Ashton.

"I've gotta go," he said pleasantly, allowing the butterflies to fill his stomach when he would normally force them away.

"Wh--where are you going?" Ashton asked, pathetically confused, "We're in the middle of hanging out!"

"Gotta go!" Luke repeated, speed-walking to the entrance of the restaurant, passing the doors, travelling down the block until he could peel out of the public parking lot in his truck, smiling all the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!


End file.
